The Hate You Give Books Novels & Stories

Christian is talking with Chana near my locker I walked to my locker and opened it "Oh the pathetic girl is looking for attention." Chana said and I just rolled my eyes "Christian, we're still going to watch movie right?" She asked with a high pitch voice "Yeah." Christian said and I just shrugged not caring even my heart wanting to punch Chana in the face and just smacked her nose. I walked pass them with the book in my hand complete hurt inside. Yes yes I'm hurt, I know I can hide it too well.

And I got a strong whiff of alcohol from him. "I don't want to see your pathetic tears. You know, I despise you more than your sister. You and your whole family are the most horrible people I have ever come across. Just wait until it's time for revenge… Until then, I will be torturing you little nerdy. And no one will help you or let you escape from this, even death…!!"

CHAPTER TWO 'The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you." ― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief It had been a long time since he last saw her, now that he finally glimpsed a sight of her after three years full of anguish and hatred, he couldn't seem to realize whether this feeling that was flooding against his spine and heart was in fact out of longing for her, or out of pure rage.

I was not angry but a feeling that I could easily refer to as hatred filled me up just before I could feel nothing anymore. That was the trigger, the hate. Like anybody would in an instance of pain, say a very hot object lands on one's skin, hate consumes one's entire thought process, leaving room for no other thought or emotion. I became immediately unable to think of anything but Riana Park and not in a good way.

She nodded and smiled at me We walked out of the library after she showed the librarian the book and went straight to class Ugwa : it's one day ahead of USA right? Me: yea. Why do you ask? Ugwa : I need to call Daniel I nodded and she looked up at me from her book Ugwa : why do you hate Daniel? I sat down and she did too Me: I don't like his character. He's too proud and has a high temper. Ugwa : but he's a good guy Me: to you only. You're the only one he was good to. And I can't help but wonder why

Volume 3: Fifteen. * This chapter is dedicated to Essy love one of my friends on social media. She's just too sweet. You can check out her book, Hated World on N******t. It's very interesting and worth reading, that I can assure you! Thank you! *

NOTE: This book is a sequel to my first book name 'Love and lies' but you guys can read this book as a stand-alone book as well because I planned to add all the main points of the first book in this one so you won't have to read the previous part all you guys have to do is to wait patiently until I reveal them one by one as per the plot requirements. Thanks. °^°^°^° Elie "Elina, My Sweetheart, where are you hiding?" Hearing his velvet voice made me drop into a pool of sweat as I gulped my saliva in fear.

Ever since my adoptive uncle, Luigi, took over the Mexican mafia, he would make me work for him too. Thing is, I was trained ever since I was ten, to become an assassin by Rafael. I did not want to become an assassin. I wanted to become a doctor, and save lives but I ended up becoming an assassin and take lives instead. I've taken more lives than I can count. I hated what I did. I hated being an assassin. I hated my life. It sucked really bad.

"Why? 'Cause I'm right for thinking she's the reason?" "Stop it," Sean hissed. "You're supposed to hate that bitch, Sean, after what she and her family did." she pushed. "I said stop, Elodie." His tolerance was wearing thin. "Then make me understand. If you want me to stop, make me understand!" He extinguished the cigarette on Elodie's exquisitely polished mahogany bedside table making the girl frown even more. "I hate her, never you doubt that. I owe you no more explanation. Still, no one touches my prey except me 'cause only I know how I want it dead."

Needing to get my mind off the stress, I decided to read a book because I couldn’t go back to work due to the scars on my body from all the burns Aisha inflicted on me. “Let’s go to the coffee shop,” Nicole suggested as she sunk in the couch beside me, taking my book away from me, “you’ve stayed too much in the house that I’m beginning to mistake you for one of the furniture.” She added. “I don’t feel like and you know, being a furniture really isn’t that bad, you just stay there and no one can hurt you so much that you’ll get scared of showing your own face outside.” I sighed before snapping my book back from her.